Shared Trains

I’ve ridden
on the same trains
as you
over these eternal years, 
collecting the paintings
of your words
in my album
held dear.

When you board,
a sense of comfort
always hugs my soul
even without eye contact
or any vocalized hello.

Somehow, I feel
you know me, though,
while respecting
my poor attempts at
incognito.

Always at night,
we ride, reading
each other;
sometimes I ride
moonbeams
to stay near
when you depart,

hovering at the open window,
turning to respect your privacy
after the last line
of your poem
falls off
sensually. 

My spirit knows yours
from some other life or realm;
I’ve counted on you
to always be there
as I travelled through each
lonely world. 

Today, the universe
was all out of whack,
for when you boarded,
you replied back

to the thoughts
I did not think were said.
A rose you left,
my name spoken,

thornless
and seeded 
as you sat
beside,
chatting away
to my smile
and starry eyes

until it was our 
independent stops.
No sins today,
but my heart felt
your pulse.